Athene has deigned to return and we have had a good day's work together on the book she is goddess-writing for me. Fortunately we share a sense of humour, although only one of us has developed the ability to laugh at ourself.
So many tributes to Five of Cups coming in now, I'm feeling maybe I did the right thing to see it through after all and my grim winter was not in vain. What does send ice to my heart is the inevitable 'What's the next novel about?' 'When will it be out?' This is becoming a serious dilemma. I swore never to go down the fiction road again, but into, or perhaps out of, my head fully formed has sprung another in entirety - plot, setting, characters, the lot. I'm scared of the subject matter but also dangerously attracted to it. It may well prove as irresistible as the King of Swords. I'm prepared to put down a mental marker for 2008 but nothing, absolutely nothing and nobody is going to come between me and my canal book. There's a true labour of love.